Chapter Text
Every bit of this land was alive. If one cared to look hard enough, its entire being seemed to move and sway to an unknown, feral dance of life. It seemed so foreign to many, but to him, it had been inviting; perhaps even comforting. After so much had happened, perhaps she, too, should feel welcome in a place like this. There was little threat here, compared to what they had faced in the past. The balance of nature kept at play here, now that the world had begun to recover.
The Silver River flowed quietly through the marsh, fish visible just beneath the surface but well out of the reach of their claws. It was a peaceful scene, one that should have been far more comforting. Instead, the young dragoness only felt more nervous.
Cynder’s tail flicked idly to the side, knocking a pebble about in an attempt to focus on something besides her growing anxieties. Cyan eyes closed briefly as she considered her options, simultaneously feeling her four collective elements swirl within her. Only one was natural, while the other three had been forced upon her through torturous means. Each held their own advantages in battle, yet weighed heavily on her body and mind. It wasn’t something many were forced to suffer, and that fact grew more firm with each passing day.
Her dearest friend had been taught to use and control his elements, and had since become comfortable with them. Spyro had told her what it was like when he had discovered his fire breath, stating that ‘it was hard to control, and I never felt any true reign over it until Ignitus mentored me.’ Since then, he had discovered his other-- natural-- three elements, and had subsequently trained underneath masters of them in order to keep them under control.
But Cynder had no one to teach her. There was no Wind Guardian among them, let alone dragons capable of teaching her the ways of shadow, fear, and poison. It had made her uneasy, frightful that they one day might take control of her and create unnecessary casualties. It was something she had not even thought of until the final battle with Malefor.
It had been as if his claws were within her, choking her from inside out and forcing those elements to roil and squirm, attempting to burst from her in a fury she could not imagine. Only with Spyro’s help was she able to overcome this, the strange, soothing power of his Aether keeping her weighted in reality. Without him, the young dragoness had no idea what might have happened.
The fight seemed like so many years ago now. Everything had happened so fast, and then suddenly, there was peace. They had been weak for some time after, but were more than able to thrive regardless. Soon, both dragons had allowed themselves to play among one another, through the grass and trees and rivers, celebrating their victory and taking time to heal their mind and spirit after all that had transpired.
Now they waited outside the newly built temple, debating on their next course of action. It had been two years since either of them had seen their mentors and family, and though they knew they would be welcomed back, both were still afraid. Even Spyro stood, watching the walls as if they might simply open up and swallow him whole. Perhaps it was foolish to worry, but two years was a long time; not to them, but to the world around. Things had most certainly changed.
Cyan eyes met amethyst, sharing a look of worry and excitement. Terrador, Volteer, Cyril… they were surely still waiting for them to come back. There was no chance that they would have lost hope for their return. It was heartwarming, to say the least. How could they keep them waiting, knowing that?
Spyro and Cynder exchanged a firm nod, stepping forward and finally heading into the temple. Its doors were open, something they had never seen in the past. Though strange, the notion gave them a warm feeling; no one had to be shut out of the temples any longer, as there was no threat of apes attempting to raid. No terror of the skies to swoop down upon them… nothing to fear.
The inside looked far cleaner than they remembered. The vines and other foliage that had clogged the interior was gone, and the cracks in the stone nonexistent. The place was clearly built in the image of its predecessor, but gleamed with its newness into the world. It now looked as if it were inhabited, and the sound of voices in the distance redoubled that fact. Dragons lived here, trained here. It was a thought Cynder was still unused to.
Not all of the voices were familiar, either. Many sounded young, perhaps several years younger than them. She couldn’t resist; while Spyro walked forward, Cynder dared to sneak over towards another room, peeking her head inside. Her eyes nearly welled up with tears of shock and joy at what she saw.
Fledglings! Dragons not quite their age, talking among one another, play-fighting, and resting after a particularly tough class. Some were green, others red, a couple were blue, yellow, and colors that she had not seen in dragons before. Pink, orange, brown… it was stunning. They had to have been hatched during the time she was corrupt, there was no doubting that. How had they managed to survive?
One of the young dragons noticed her, and she quickly pulled away, running back to Spyro in the hopes that maybe they would think it had been their imagination. She looked back, but as she had feared, two little heads peaked around the corner. At first they seemed inquisitive, but they suddenly became absolutely stunned, and then charged head-long out of the room. The sound of their friends questioning them seemed lost to the sound of claws scraping against stone.
Spyro looked back, clearly confused, before his eyes went wide. He stopped, turning to face the young ones-- as did she-- as if trying to decide if they were real or not. Both skidded to a hault when the purple dragon looked down upon them, the two falling over each other in fear. They seemed eager, but also quite frightened by the sight of the legendary heroes.
The duo looked between him and her, making Cynder shift uneasily. What were they going to do? She had never socialized with younger dragons before. In fact, the only ones she had ever known were Spyro, the Guardians, and…
“Hi there,” her friend’s voice cut the silence. There was uncertainty to it, as if he were just as uncomfortable as she was. No reply came from the smaller two at first, and during the awkward lull, Cynder decided to examine them a bit more closely.
The scales of the first fledgling were a deep blue, reminding her a bit of a thick block of ice, while his partner was a pale green. By the looks of their horns and tails, they seemed to be of the ice and earth elements, respectively. Ice-boy’s wings were a bit bigger than his friend, but Earth-boy was stockier and more firmly built. Neither had any scars or missing limbs, nor anything else to indicate that they had suffered such injuries in the past. That was good; it was relieving to know some had escaped her treachery.
“Uhhh…” her purple companion was about to say something else, but before he could, the little ice dragon finally piped up.
“Why are you purple?” it was a strange question, but then again, they had never seen a purple dragon before. Surely the Guardians told their students the legends-- especially after such recent events-- but perhaps they didn’t believe it was really Spyro standing there before them.
“I was born purple,” the aforementioned dragon answered evenly. He didn’t seem to know what else to say at first, but after a brief glance to her, decided it would be best to just move forward. “Do you know where the Guardians are?”
“They’re probably in the room with the pool,” the earth fledgling mentioned, not really looking at either of them, “The one some dragons see pictures in.”
“Since you're purple, can you see pictures in the pool?” apparently the blue one was the talker of the group. Cynder had to keep herself from giggling.
“Sometimes,” Spyro nodded, “but right now I have to go see them. Go back to your friends, okay?”
“But we’ve never seen a purple dragon before. Are you the one Cyril talks about all the time? You don’t look like you have any ice dragon features…” both heroes glanced to each other and tried not to smirk. “Are you Spyro? Wait, you must be! Then that means you’re Cynder, right?” he was getting more jumpy, something she expected from Volteer, or, rather, an electric dragon. “I don’t believe it. You’re just drakes! I bet you’re only a couple of years older than me!” he stood up on his hind legs now, making himself about their height.
“We have to go see the Guardians, but we can talk later, okay?” Spyro seemed to find this endearing, but it wasn’t exactly the return either of them had expected. She could tell he was trying to get her out of the situation, as well, as she realized she probably looked like a deer in a hunter’s bow range.
“Very well, but you have to come back. Understood?” the ice fledgling’s earthian friend nudged him, making him wobble on his hind legs a bit. Apparently he thought his friend was being rude.
“Only if you have time,” the latter noted, finally looking up at the two.
“Don’t worry,” Spyro chuckled, “we’ll be happy to come back and talk later. Now go on, okay?”
“Wait! One more thing,” Cynder tried not to roll her eyes, “I’m Aquilo, and this is Adao,” he nodded to the earth fledgling.
“It’s nice to meet you two,” the purple dragon smiled, turning to Cynder and giving a nod. Both turned away from the younger duo, heading towards the Pool of Visions. Behind them, she swore she could hear Aquilo whisper something along the lines of ‘the others aren’t going to believe this!’
It didn’t take very long to reach their destination, and the rest of their walk was rather uneventful. As the stone doors opened for them, the Guardians came into view, apparently discussing something among one another before actually turning to their guests. Once they did, however, their conversation fell silent, she and Spyro slowly entering the room as the door closed behind them.
The first thing she noticed was that there were not three, but four dragons sitting around the pool. Spyro seemed just as taken aback as she was, eyes locked on the orange-red dragon resting furthest from them. A few uneasy blinks, and suddenly, three of the dragons jumped towards them.
Without warning, Cynder felt herself be raised off the ground along with Spyro, squished in between three armored chests. To her surprise, Cyril had seemed to be the one to lift her, and they seemed just as happy to see her as they were their original student. It brought tears to the dark dragoness’ eyes, which she wiped away with a stubborn claw.
“We knew you were alive!” Terrador spoke first, his voice rumbling through her body almost uncomfortably due to the close contact.
“Yes! It was impossible, improbable, unlikely, unfathomable--”
“Oh, shut up Volteer!” the ice Guardian cut in, “Young dragons, you have kept us waiting! Don’t you know never to do that to your elders?”
Despite herself, Cynder began to laugh alongside her companion, their tearful reunion too much for her to handle. Each Guardian took turns nuzzling them as if they were their children, holding them up off the ground despite her occasional squirming to be let down.
It took a bit of time, but finally the duo were released, their claws once again meeting stone. Tears were licked off their cheeks (despite her attempting to push the invading muzzles away), and things began to calm down. She and Spyro joined them around the Pool of Visions, attention now turned to the elephant in the room.
“Spyro, Cynder, I’d like you to meet Pyra. Pyra, these are the two we have told you about,” Terrador nodded to them, ‘Pyra’ simply blinking in surprise.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Spyro’s voice was even, but Cynder had a sneaking suspicion that all was not well. Pyra remained quiet for a surprisingly long time, before bowing his head in respect.
“I’m honored to meet you both,” his words were sincere, but he clearly didn’t know what to say.
“Pyra was a fire apprentice a very long time ago,” Cyril began to explain, having lifted a paw to clamp Volteer’s mouth shut before he could even speak. “We’ve known him for many years, and are very glad you are able to meet him.”
“Yes,” Terrador nodded, glancing between the purple and red dragons. “Pyra is training to become the new fire Guardian.”
“I see,” though he didn’t say anything else, Cynder shifted uneasily. The death of Ignitus had left a deep imprint on Spyro, and she was unsure as to how he would react to this new information. “Pyra,” she jolted, not having expected her companion to speak again so soon.
“Yes, Spyro?” the fire dragon seemed uneasy as well, keeping his head down just enough to show his submission. What an odd thing it must have been for him to bow his head to such young dragons. Even she felt it was strange.
“Congratulations. I’m sure you will make a great Guardian.”
Everyone was silent for a moment, having not expected such high praise from the purple dragon. Pyra seemed the most stunned, mouth agape as he watched for any sign of falsehood from him. After a moment a careful smile rose to his cheeks, the fire dragon giving a firm nod.
“Thank you, Spyro. I hope you decide to remain here with us at the temple. I’d be honored to have a teacher like yourself.”
Cynder glanced between them, and a mutual fondness had already bloomed in their eyes. She felt as if a weight had been lifted from her heart, cyan eyes turning to the Pool of Visions. This must have been what Ignitus would have wanted.
Ignitus… she had never been close to him-- not until the very end. Losing him had not cut her as deep as it had Spyro, but it had still left a mark on her. She had come to see him as a father without even realizing it, and that memory made her heart ache. He had been a truly good dragon, and neither of them would ever forget that.
“Cynder,” she was snapped out of her thoughts by her dear friend’s voice, turning to meet his concerned gaze. “Are you alright?”
“...Yes,” her voice felt hoarse. The last time she had spoken was when they had first seen the swamp from the skies, and ever since she had done her best to remain quiet. It didn’t feel right to speak, to be welcomed here…
Even after so long, she knew this was not her home. It never would be. As much as she wanted to feel at ease here, the former terror of the skies felt as if she were meant to leave, just as she had after Spyro had rid her of the worst of Malefor’s corruption. There was something out there waiting for her-- something she had to find.
“We hope you both stay,” Terrador’s voice cut the silence once more, causing her to lift her gaze. “The temple welcomes all with open arms, no matter the past.”
His words were reassuring, but they did not fill the growing void within her.
“What are we still doing? We must set them up with beds, food, necessities! Surely our heroes are tired from their two-year vacation,” Volteer winked, giving a toothy smirk. “Not to mention letting our students know about and be prepared for their idols, inspirations, heroes, saviors--”
“Yes, yes, they’ll have a field day. But, I do agree, we should prepare everything. Come, I will take you both to where you’ll be staying,” Cyril stood, stepping beside her and giving the dark dragoness a little nudge with his paw. Cynder, ever the stubborn one, pushed back out of spite.
“Thank you all, but I need to go back to mom and dad, first,” Spyro’s interjection surprised her. Mom and dad? She had no idea her companion had parents! What sort of dragons were they? How did he know them? And…
“Ah, that’s right! I’m sure Sparx is waiting for you,” Volteer nodded.
“A legendary dragon raised by dragonflies… and to think, I’d thought I’d heard it all,” Cyril rolled his eyes, unwittingly shedding some light on the situation for Cynder.
“Are you coming?” Spyro turned to her, a hopeful look in his eyes. She, however, seemed to stare right through him for a moment.
“...Sorry, Spyro, but I think I’ll stay here,” she had no place going with him. That was his family, not hers. She would simply become a third wheel, perhaps even considered an annoyance by his… ‘parents.’
“Are you sure? They’ll welcome you, I promise,” it was hard to reject him a second time, but alas, the dark dragoness shook her head.
“Don’t worry, I’ll see you when you get back,” Cynder managed a smile, but it failed to reach her eyes. Disappointed but knowing better than to push the subject further, her purple friend nodded in understanding.
While Spyro remained with the other Guardians, Cyril escorted her out of the room and towards where she’d be staying. It was strange walking alongside him, as neither of them had ever really gotten along. In fact, the only thing that had kept the ice dragon from throwing her out had been Ignitus. After that, she had betrayed his trust and left regardless. Surely their joy towards seeing her was nothing more than an act for Spyro’s sake.
“You know Cynder, that wind element of yours could use some refining,” she jolted when he broke the silence, looking up at the frozen Guardian. He seemed to be looking off in the distance somewhere. “I’m sure there are plenty of wind dragons who would be willing to help you master it.”
“Are there Guardian’s for the other elements?” her voice was a bit quieter than she had meant for it to be, so she spoke a bit more firmly the second time around, “I mean, if there are ones for ice, earth, fire, and electricity, why wouldn’t there be?”
“Ah, yes, there was once many more than just us. Unfortunately, after all that had happened, many of us spread out in an attempt to protect dragonkind. The former Wind Guardian was… truly something.”
“Was she?” her curiosity piqued hearing this, and knowing how much Cyril liked to talk, getting him to tell the story wouldn’t be hard. Sure enough, he began his tangent.
“Oh yes, her name was Zephyra, and she was much older than the rest of us. Very calm, like a soothing breeze, but fickle as well. Never chose a successor, said none of them ‘went with the wind.’ Sometimes she would vanish for days on end, leaving her students to wonder where she had gone. Some years before the temple raid, however, she vanished for good. No one has seen or heard from her ever since,” he glanced down to Cynder, apparently noting the saddened look in her eyes.
“But worry not! She had many students, one of which I used to be good friends with. We will most definitely find someone to help train you, and soon you’ll be soaring on the wind like a feather, and creating hurricanes with a mere flap of your wings!”
“What about my other elements?”
“Ah… what?”
She paused, stopping and looking down at the stone beneath her claws. Cyril stopped as well, craning his neck down to look at her head-on. He blinked, clearly confused, before she finally decided to elaborate.
“For shadow, fear, and poison. I know they’re a result of my… corruption, but they feel to me just the same as the element of wind.”
“They will go away in time, I’m sure,” he didn’t sound certain of that, and frankly, neither was she.
“But what if they don’t?” the dragoness raised her head, looking him in the eyes. “What happens to dragons who don’t learn to use their elements, Cyril? What if they go out of control, and I accidentally hurt someone?”
“Don’t speak nonsense,” he scolded, surprising her. “There are no natural dragons with those abilities, Cynder. Even if there were, I highly doubt they’d be friendly enough to teach you.”
“But then--” she stopped, confused for a moment before continuing, “what do you mean by natural dragons?”
“Ice, fire, earth, electricity, wind, water-- those are natural elements. There are more, of course, but it’s an extensive list, to be quite honest,” he raised his head once more, looking down at her sternly. “Dragons with dark elements like those only appeared after the dark magic started corrupting the land.”
“So those dragons do exist? I’m not the only one?”
“You’re the only one with all of them at once, but not the only one to have such elements, no. Technically, there are ‘dragons’ that exist with such corruption, but they were all banished a very long time ago.”
“Why were they banished?”
“What do you mean why? They were evil, corrupt monsters that served under Malefor--” he seemed to realize what he was saying, looking down upon a clearly hurt Cynder. Cyril took a deep breath, leaning down so that he was eye-to-eye with her once more.
“You were saved because there was good in you, young dragon. There is no good in creatures like them.”
“...I see. I’m sorry for asking,” she lowered her head in submission, knowing that pushing further would get her nowhere. This, however, had not been an entirely pointless conversation; now she knew what she had to do. There were dragons out there like her, and if they were like her, they couldn’t be all bad. If she could be tainted by the Dark Master and subsequently redeemed, so could they.
After Cyril had gotten her set up in one of the temple's many rooms, Cynder had begun to make plans. For the time being she was sleeping in Volteer’s re-assembled library, and there were plenty of maps and tomes to help her within. It took several hours of searching, but when she was just about ready to give up, a particular tome caught her eye.
The title read something along the lines of ‘Spotting Darks.’ She had never been taught to read properly, but understood the gist of it; it talked about dragons with elements like hers, showing pictures of their symbols, and then about where these dragons were sent. Luckily, there seemed to be a smudged piece of map on one of the pages, prompting her to take the book over to the larger map she had rested on the ground in front of her makeshift bed.
After figuring out the shapes, she deduced that the place in the book was in the bottom right-hand corner of the larger map. It appeared to be a different landmass than the one they were currently on, separated by a stretch of ocean not unlike the area between here and Dante’s Freezer. That was a distance she had flown in the past-- and shorter than the flight that had brought them back to the swamp. She could make that, easily.
There was very little thought put into her actions; Cynder had become an impulsive dragoness, perhaps due to her previous instinctual nature brought on by her corruption. It wasn’t hard to find a small leather pouch, which was quickly swung over her shoulder and stuffed with the map and book. The pouch was weighty, but not so much that it would hinder her flight. It was perfect.
Still, she knew better than to leave immediately. Instead, just as before, she would wait until nightfall. Placing the bag beside one of the bookshelves and just out of view, Cynder turned to her makeshift bed, crawling into it and flopping down.
It was at that moment that Spyro decided to walk in, her head popping up off her pillow to look at him.
“Oh, sorry, were you going to get some rest?” the purple dragon apologized, stepping back.
“It’s alright. What’s up?” she answered coolly, tilting her head to the side just slightly.
“I wanted to say goodbye. Since I’m going to go see Sparx and my parents, after all…” he trailed off, glancing away briefly before turning back to her. “You sure you don’t want to come?”
“Maybe some other time. You haven’t seen them in so long, it would be strange for me to go with you.”
“Yeah, I understand…” he paused and she sighed, finishing his sentence.
“You just didn’t want me to feel left out.”
“No! That’s not-- I don’t mean it like that, Cynder.”
“I know, don’t worry. Go see your family, Spyro,” she smiled at him, and this time, it did reach her eyes.
“...Thanks, Cynder. I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend like you.”
It was… so strange to hear something like that. Spyro, deserved her? That was almost laughable. He had saved her life, trusted her despite the monster she had been, and even bowed his head before her when she nearly betrayed him. Spyro was more than her savior-- he was the closest friend she would ever have. He was honest, kind, gentle, forgiving… none of which she deserved after what she had done. But there he was, standing beside her, even when she had left him behind in the hopes of finding her true home.
And now she was going to do it again, and the guilt had never been so crushing in her life.
“No, Spyro,” she stood, stepping over to him and resting her neck against his in a draconian hug, “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
Both chuckled for a moment before parting, each giving a nod as Spyro turned and exited the room. She watched him leave, knowing it would be the last time she would see him for a long while. Hopefully he would understand her choice, and not hate her for this one, last betrayal.
Cynder returned to her bed, resting against the soft cloth and closing her eyes, trying to imagine what she may find on her journey. Somewhere, somehow, there had to be a place where she truly belonged. And then, once she had found it… she could return to her dearest companion, and finally be at peace with herself.